


Bound

by liberateme



Series: all tied up [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Boyfriends, DO NOT READ if unprepared for the smutty smut, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Spoilers, bottom!poe, brief appearance from rey, dorky boyfriends being dorks, first time bottoming (for poe anyway WAYHEY), kinda explicit, mature - Freeform, seriously was self indulgent in my poe/finn cravings, top!finn, very smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 20:18:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5553920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liberateme/pseuds/liberateme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe Dameron is bound to promises he cannot keep, and doesn’t prove to be the most patient of people. Also Poe is bound. Literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound

**Author's Note:**

> soooo this is kinda ridiculous that i haven't posted on here for two years,,, but there u go  
> have a (very) self indulgent poe/finn fic that was dying to get out of me -- in which poe's the dominant one, except for one evening, finn gets to be  
> i hope u enjoy! xxxx

Finn discovers that Poe is _awful_ at keeping promises. Sure, he’s fantastic and gorgeous and talented and the best pilot in the Resistance and Finn’s uncontested favourite person; but possibly Poe’s only flaw lies in his inability to keep promises. Finn asks little of Poe, he likes to think. He asks Poe for the time and for kisses, to borrow BB-8’s services when needed and his stance on something to settle petty arguments with Rey – but nothing on a large scale.

This time, Finn asks Poe to keep a promise for him. They’re cramped on Poe’s bunk (all complaints are forwarded to General Organa, but nobody dares face such a fierce, formidable woman – Finn knows from experience that she is a softie at heart, but likes to stay in character for appearance’s sake), managing the tight conditions with Finn on Poe’s lap. Poe’s fingers are dug tightly into Finn’s arse shamelessly, and Finn’s body is growing hot at the scrape of Poe’s stubble against his neck.

Finn welcomes an idea into his head when his hands curl around the strong swell of muscles in Poe’s arm, and Poe grunts into his neck, mouth working over the soft skin there. He’s tentative in wording this thought to Poe, who has done an excellent job in introducing him to all the kinks and quirks of sex, fucked him well and hard ‘til he’s in orgasmic bliss one day and hobbling the next day (all to the unamused mouth tilts of General Organa).

But Finn has never been entrusted with _control_ , and that is what he is truly craving. The same sort of trust that he hands over to Poe, his welfare in Poe’s hands when they fuck. He wants the same dizzy feeling that Poe describes, drawn from somebody laying out their body, trusting, allowing the other to dominate them completely.

Finn wants, well, he wants to be the one to fuck Poe this time. Maybe several times.

Poe is dominant in _all_ areas of his life. He’s the Resistance’s best pilot, has his own squadron to command, has his own fleet of X-wing fighters at his fingertips, and, most importantly, Finn’s boyfriend. Finn is fucked on a nightly basis; a privilege he’d never had nor heard of, before he left the First Order and met Poe; he realises there should be no cause for complaint.

But.

Finn wants.

And _wants_.

He wants so badly that, even if Poe’s biting an animalistic mark into his neck that General Organa will no doubt reprimand him for and advise living arrangements be _rearranged_ (although Finn knows he’ll only sneak back in, against orders), he’s readying himself to tell Poe that he really, really wants to reverse roles next time. So he does.

“Poe,” he says, sounding more breathy than a grown man should. “Poe, I – I need to talk to you about something.” Poe grunts in response, licks over the mark he’s just made on Finn’s neck with surprising care, considering he bit aforementioned mark into Finn’s neck quite ferociously. Finn’s fingers grip Poe’s arms, having to force the pilot off his neck (to Finn’s disappointment). “It’s serious.”

Poe sits back, rest on his hands while Finn tries to ignore how sexy he looks, all dishevelled and calm and considering, dark eyes and mouth swollen. “It’s really big, huh? A big thing?” Finn nods, firm. He won’t allow Poe’s mouth to distract him from his task. He needs this. “Well dashing young man on my lap, why don’t you tell me before I get distracted again?”

Finn has his pulse rate steadied before he starts. “Okay. But you have to promise me you won’t freak out.” Poe raises his eyebrows, but nods. Finn bites the inside of his cheek and tries to convince him he’s not nervous and Poe won’t be resistant and they’ll all shit rainbows and go home happy. “I think… I think I want to be in charge next time.” He says it all in a rush, doesn’t trip over his words, but holds his breath in burning anticipation for Poe’s reaction. There’s no reaction, at first.

Finn senses a disruption in Poe’s calm demeanour, a small electric trip in the wiring of the pilot’s frame; barely noticeable but there. Something flickers over Poe’s face but disappears. “You want… to take charge?” Finn nods, gnawing the inside of his cheek raw. Poe’s hands leave the bed to settle on Finn’s thighs, consoling his shaking nerves with small, soft strokes of his thumb. “So you want to be the big, bad Stormtrooper here to sort me out? Maybe fuck me so hard until I learn a lesson?”

If there is any lesson to be learnt, it is that Poe Dameron has a filthy mouth on him. His mouth is crooked, too, in a dirty grin. Finn nods, dumbfounded. His own mouth is dry. “You could hold my hands behind my back, too,” Poe muses. “Force me how you want me and take me there and then.” Finn nods again, almost knocking his head against the ceiling of the bunkbed in his enthusiasm. “Sounds like something I might be up for.”

Poe seems to warm to the idea, but Finn is not assured. He needs Poe’s word. “Promise me?” He asks, aware he is pushing his luck. He’s not entirely sure Poe is going to allow him to go through with this, but he is trying his damn luck. “You – promise you will do this? For me?”

A part of Poe’s face softens at that. At the – the thought of fulfilling a desire of Finn’s, sacrificing what he possibly upholds the most: his power, his control. For Finn. Poe promises, seals his promise with a kiss that’s sugar sweet on Finn’s mouth, and lingers long after they are curled up in bed, Finn tucked against Poe, Poe’s arm slung over Finn. Deathly quiet settles over the Resistance base.

•

A day passes. Then two. Then a week. Seven days all pass unbelievably quick, all merged together in a haze of Poe’s mouth and Poe’s hands and Poe’s sunny smiles and just Poe. His days are quickly split into two: the time he can’t see Poe, and the time he can. Rey scoffs at him, does that little mouth curl of hers but quickly shuts up when Finn threatens to inform Master Luke that she hasn’t been completing her training on accounts of being distracted by a new hotshot pilot at the base.

Finn knows it’s dangerous to threaten a Jedi in training (a very strong one in Rey’s case), knows he’ll be facing repercussions of the mind trick kind, but welcomes Rey’s silence and lack of taunts all directed towards Finn’s swooning. Well, he’s not swooning. Not really. (Sort of.)

Finn’s so lost in how he feels around Poe, how he has something to fight for that makes him grow stronger, more determined, learn his way around several kinds of blasters and perfect his aim; that he almost forgets Poe’s promise. Almost. He’s being drilled by one of the Resistance’s most elite commanders regarding hand to gun combat and hardly listening. It’s a rare moment in his training where he loses his concentration and allows his mind to wander.

His mind wanders to Poe’s arm muscles, strong and sturdy under his hands. He thinks about how he’d quite like to pin his arms down, possibly tie his hands together in a messy knot behind his back, and – remembers. Remembers what Poe promised him, and what his mind has failed to remember the past two weeks. He sits tight through training despite this recent revelation, and tries to tune in on what Commander Briggs is saying, something about how to hold a weapon correctly – but fails horribly.

He can’t sit still after his recent revelation – with the knowledge that Poe promised him something he’d been silently craving since almost the beginning of their relationship – his legs shake in the suppressed urge to seek out Poe, make him follow up what he has promised him. A nearby trainee soldier glances at him in brief concern, but turns his attention back to Briggs before Finn has the chance to excuse his behaviour.

Finn remains unbothered. His mind is on Poe, and how he’d quite like to watch Poe fall apart, at his hands and mouth.

 

“Rey!” Finn gasps out, chest heaving, hands on his knees as his body is bent in half from exhaustion. “I’ve been looking for you,” he adds, ignoring the pang of pain his body receives when he straightens up, forces air into his starved lungs. “I – I need to know where Poe is. Have you seen him?”

Rey tucks away the lightsaber she’d been gripping, no doubt fresh out of training with Master Luke – he has been working her hard, daily training sessions that leave her with little spare time (which Finn is no fan of, but he understands her importance as Jedi, her significance to the cause) – and ruminates. She has such a way of studying people, meticulous, that Finn feels a little self-conscious under her assessment.

Rey appears to spare him from any questions that arise, answering in a careful tone: “Last I saw of him, he was working on one of the X-wing fighters. Down in the hangar.” He opens his mouth to think her, but Rey’s quick tongue beats him to it. “If it’s any consolation, whatever is going on between you two is on Poe’s mind, too. He seemed pretty distracted down where he was working,” she remarks, raising an arched eyebrow. “Never seen him so affected.”

Finn flushes, but doesn’t crack under Rey’s gaze. He wills himself to remain strong, silent about a personal issue that does not concern an interested Rey – God knows what she’d think, if he confided in her that he’s been wanting to fuck his dominant boyfriend for weeks. Rey is open, and doesn’t seem fazed by much after years of living on the desert planet of Jakku – but Finn doesn’t know where she stands on sexual encounters. Something to discuss on another day.

“Thanks,” he says finally, itching to find Poe, someone he can share with, this secret of his stifling him. He’s oppressed it for so long, and no longer wishes to keep it on his tongue, aching to talk about it. “I’ll see you later?” He offers. Rey nods, smiles at him in a knowing way that is wiser beyond her years. Finn puts it down to her being a Jedi, and spending long hours of training with Master Luke, a man shrouded in mystery.

Finn runs off again, his mind solely on the hangar of the X-wing fighters, where he hopes to find Poe (preferably sweaty and smelling strongly of the grease X-wing pilots use to refresh their fighters that Finn has grown to love). He passes crowds of people loitering that he has to rudely push through, ignore their hushed voices and blatant stares. Word has finally leaked out about Finn’s origins, and while he’s not the fondest of the attention he receives due to it, General Organa assures him commotion will die down soon.

Finn runs down the twisting corridors of the Resistance base, his muscles shrieking at him the entire way – he regrets skipping training sessions now, in favour of scheduling make out sessions with his pilot boyfriend; it’s clear his fitness has waned since his leaving the First Order – ‘til he reaches the hangar.

Poe is visible all the way from where Finn is stood, at the gaping entrance. Clad in his orange and white uniform that Finn insists suits him, Poe is jumping to and fro between his two favourite X-wing fighters, the two T-70s he spends most of his time attentively repairing and managing. As Finn nears, he can see the smudge of grease on Poe’s cheek and on his uniform, and the concentration crossing his face. He still loves his dorky boyfriend.

“Hey,” he says softly, when he’s close enough to be heard. Poe’s head jerks up, and barks something out when he hits his head against a wing. He winces at the impact, echoing in the empty hangar. “You okay?” He asks, hovering between staying where he is, and rushing over to fawn over Poe. He’s hesitant, not wanting to overload him all at once. He suspects what he is here to talk with Poe about will be a lot for him to handle.

Poe nods, eyes squeezed shut during his dealing with the pain, teeth chewing on his bottom lip. Finn feels the edge of relief when Poe opens his eyes, releases his bottom lip from his teeth and smiles at him, albeit a bit forced. “Fine, buddy. What’s up?” Finn’s heart swells in the way it always does, an automatic response to the terms of endearment Poe frequently uses.

It eases his additional anxiety, brought on at the thought of how Poe would respond to Finn mentioning a promise he made two weeks ago. Finn worries too much, he knows. “I wanted to talk about, um. What we talked about a couple of weeks back? You know, um.” His cheeks flush an angry red. “About me fucking you,” he says in a whisper, despite them being utterly alone. Nobody to overhear their conversation.

“Oh! Right. Yeah.” Poe replies, uncharacteristically sheepish. He has one arm crooked around his head, rubbing at the sore spot, where he banged his head. “Yeah, I figured – figured we weren’t going to do it after two weeks? I don’t know buddy. I’m just not too sure about it.” Finn’s heart plummets to the chasm of his chest at that, his realisation of Poe’s unsureness, his unwillingness.

“Okay.” He doesn’t know what else to say – he’s a bit desperate, really wants to show Poe that he can be trusted although he’s new to this, Poe being the first of everything for him. He wants the reigns handed over to him for one night. But Poe’s scratching the back of his neck now, mouth in a grimace, and Finn hates him dancing around a Big Relationship Thing because he doesn’t know how to tell Finn he doesn’t want to do it.

Poe’s always wanted to please him, Finn knows that. That should be enough, he thinks to himself, watching Poe work his arm into an ache. “That’s fine, it’s cool. I don’t mind.” When a corner of Poe’s mouth remains upturned, Finn adds: “Honestly. I didn’t care about it that much, anyway.” He kisses Poe’s frown away, fingers curled against the soft material of Poe’s pilot uniform.

Even if his mind is screaming, _No, no, no_.

•

Another week passes. Then: Finn’s all curled up on Poe’s bunk, running his thumb over the hilt of a – he’s not sure if he can even call it his _own_ yet – lightsaber, over the cool metal over and over again. It calms him, occupies his frantic mind. Training today was tiring, really worked his muscles and joints – but after he was given time to think, his mind went haywire.

He’s counted thirty four times in his head when a warm hand touches his side. “Hey.” He would recognise that voice anywhere – he lifts his eyes to Poe, stooped over him. “Just, um – don’t make me regret this, okay?” And then Poe kisses him.

It’s fantastic as any time they kiss, Poe’s mouth warm and soft over his, only, there’s – there’s this insistency to it, setting off a warm fire in Finn’s stomach, flames licking at his sides. Poe clambers over him, straddling him in one swift moment. They break apart, briefly, Poe panting into his mouth like he’s run a marathon. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confesses, low, and continues to clear the confusion fogging Finn’s brain: “I thought about what you said. About wanting to fuck me.”

Finn can’t believe his ears, so he reaches up to Poe’s mouth again for confirmation. He’s a bit needier in the kiss, pushing up against Poe, his hands on Poe’s thighs. “You’re – you’re sure?” He finally says, breathless. “You’ll let me?” He squeezes Poe’s thighs, quickly. “You want me to?”

Poe wavers. Finn kisses him again, relaxes his tense shoulders. “I want you to,” Poe confirms. Finn’s celebrating, excitement thick in his veins, in his heartbeat – but he senses Poe’s scared. Poe’s fought in life-threatening battles, taken down the Starkiller weapon singlehandedly, saving more lives than Finn can count; but he is scared now. He is giving himself over to Finn, and he is scared.

“I’ll be gentle,” Finn assures him, but a thought has made its presence aware in his mind. “I just, er. I need you to do something else for me?” Poe’s face screams dread and apprehension. “It’s nothing, honestly.” He reaches past Poe’s body, hidden underneath the mattress where he’d been storing them, in the instance Poe changed his mind. That instance is now. He brings them out, carefully, and watches Poe’s eyes widen.

“Wow,” Poe says, after a long silence. His mouth curls into one of his dirty grins, and Finn is comforted. “You’re kinkier than I thought you were, soldier.” He holds his hands out without question, and Finn ties them together in swift, tight loops with the cloth. It takes no time at all, and the end result is gorgeous. Poe sat there, his eyes dark, mouth flush from Finn’s kisses, and his hands bound.

He’s helpless. Vulnerable. And assessing Finn in what could be considered a very, very dirty way. Poe’s undoubtedly the most attractive (and only) prisoner that Finn has seen. “You going to start this, or what?” Poe pushes, and Finn rewards him. He kisses him, mouths hot, Poe nipping at his lower lip in a fighting way that sort of said _I may be bound but it doesn’t mean I’m not going to bite back_. Finn likes that.

Finn kisses him torturously slow, tongue languid against his, while Poe pushes and presses and is generally impatient. Finn smiles against his biting mouth when Poe says out of impatience, “Hurry up. Please? Kind of losing my edge here.” He undresses him there and then (Poe has his hands tied), hurriedly and not the most gracefully, knocking his teeth against Poe’s mouth while they kiss.

Finn’s body hots up at how obscene they must look: Poe, down to his boxers on Finn’s lap; Finn fully clothed. It helps to make him feel in charge more; in control of who is undressed and who isn’t. Finn discovers that Poe often dislikes wasting time and prefers getting straight to it, when thinking back to the times when Poe kissed him, once or twice, before fucking him breathless on his bunk. Not the most romantic, but. Passionate. Heady.

He discovers this when he takes his sweet time, skimming his hands over Poe’s rib cages, mouthing at his neck – Poe wriggles in his lap, deliberate, and whines. Finn almost topples off the bed there and then. He drew a noise from Poe – a high, girlish, beautiful noise. Poe whines again. “ _Finn_ ,” he huffs. “Come on. Just hurry up and fuck me.”

Finn doesn’t respond, only sinks his teeth into the skin of Poe’s neck and ghosts his fingers over the bulge in Poe’s boxers. He feels the wetness there, imagines how the pre cum looks leaking out of Poe’s cock, and groans. Poe is ridiculous. Some more time passes in which Finn teases Poe, mostly, and licks into his mouth, before even Finn himself is wanting to hurry up, sneak his fingers past the waistband of Poe’s boxers and wrap his hand around his cock.

He does just that. Poe’s warm and unbelievably hard in his hand, his cock jumping at the first skin to skin contact. Finn feels giddy. He’s never had such an effect on Poe before, the pilot in his lap tucking his head into Finn’s neck, not making a sound other than breathing heavily. Finn strokes him, long and slow, and Poe whines into his neck, squirms in Finn’s lap. Finn pulls his boxers down properly.

He continues to stroke him, and the cock in his hand pulses and leaks some more. Poe gets wet, very fast. Finn likes that too. He distracts an embarrassed Poe with kisses, keeps his mouth occupied while his hand works at Poe’s cock, puzzling out what Poe likes and dislikes – he finds that Poe likes long, tight strokes, fucking up into the ring of Finn’s hand at one point. He also finds Poe has very, very sensitive balls and unfairly uses it to his advantage.

He tests it out when Poe’s complaint starts up again, brushes his fingers against Poe’s balls while he complains _You’re taking too long, you_ – and is interrupted by the choked up noise in the back of his throat from Finn’s long fingers brushing over his balls, while the other hand strokes at his cock, keeps it wet in his palm. Poe’s pulse stutters. “ _Oh my God_ ,” Poe says, voice tight, dropping his head back onto Finn’s shoulder.

Finn tries not to grin. He experiments with twisting his hand a few times around Poe’s cock, so caught in concentration at the awkward angle of jerking off another person (he wonders how Poe does it so expertly but decides he’s doing fine, with Poe’s knuckles white from his fingers digging into Finn’s thighs), that he doesn’t hear Poe’s warning, only feels his whole body tense, ready to orgasm, and stops abruptly.

Poe lets out a long, drawn-out whine in protest. Finn meets his mouth again in what he hopes is apology, hopes it says _You’re gorgeous and I love you, but I need to do this at my own pace_. “I’m not done with you yet,” he says instead, voice smug. Poe bites down on his bared shoulder in retaliation, but it only serves to make Finn harder in his constraints.

Poe falls into hushed quiet when Finn lowers his mouth onto Poe’s cock for the first time that day, welcoming his hardness into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth. Poe curses, inaudible. Finn opens his eyes, mouth stretching to accommodate Poe, and sees him itch to weave his hands into Finn’s hair, but cannot, restricted by his bonds.

It sends a rush of warmth to Finn’s groin, hot, and spurs him on to properly suck at Poe’s cock, suckling at the tip before lowering himself down onto the rest of Poe’s length. Pre cum spurts out of the tip, which Finn laps up in no time, teasing his tongue against the tip of the cock. That earns Finn a pleased groan from Poe, who is defenceless against Finn’s mouth and hands – that, Finn likes.

He spreads his hands out on Poe’s bare thighs, working himself into a good rhythm, head bobbing up and down on Poe’s cock, the slurping sounds his sucking cock emits music to his ears. Poe arches his back and sighs, pushing up into Finn’s mouth, bumping against his throat. Finn blanks at the sensation for a minute, wet spreading in his pants ridiculously so at Poe’s first proper push.

He forces himself down ‘til Poe’s cock knocks against his throat once more, fingertips pink on Poe’s thighs, and holds himself there, waiting for the older man to realise. Poe swears when he does, but complies, happy to fuck into Finn’s throat. He wastes no time, fucking hard and raw, ‘til Finn’s throat is gagging in protest, but Finn doesn’t move a muscle. All he does is keep his mouth loose and sloppy and open around his cock, welcomes the raw feeling it brings.

It takes Poe a few more thrusts ‘til he’s teetering on the edge again, brought on by Finn’s eager mouth, his hands braced against his legs as he strives to give Poe the spit-slick blowjob he’s been dreaming about. Poe’s legs are quivering, his voice strained and desperate when he warns Finn, “Finn, I’m – really close.” Finn pulls his lips off with a satisfying pop, doesn’t fail to miss the disappointment crossing Poe’s face.

He kisses Poe’s leg, just because it’s the part of Poe nearest to him.

It’s awkward, rearranging, with Poe sat firmly on his lap – but he gets Finn’s signal, slipping off him in favour of sprawling out on the bunk. He’s so, so gorgeous, flushed and trembling and waiting for Finn to finish him off. _Finn_ , of all people. Finn does feel dizzy now, understands what Poe was on about; with Poe underneath him, desperate for a touch of his, a taste. All his and all open.

It all really starts at Finn slipping two fingers past the plush, cherry lower lip of Poe’s, Poe suckling him in, cheeks hollowed. He’s the most obscene man Finn’s ever seen, lids hooded in his short contentment, getting the fingers in his mouth wet. Finn throbs, in his trousers still. He draws his fingers out of Poe’s mouth, although Poe chases after them, unwilling to let go. He nips at Finn’s fingertips as they leave.

Poe stiffens up, to Finn’s dismay – he recognises the signs, Finn’s fingers slick and him laid out on the bunk – Finn has to wrap a hand around him for him to sigh, relax and hang his legs out. “You alright with this?” Finn tests, brushing a thumb over Poe’s most sensitive, most vulnerable of parts. Poe nods stiffly, but doesn’t stiffen up at Finn wanking him off, is too relaxed to.

He hisses at the first push, Finn’s thumb dipping into the pink, the first breach against resistance. He’s so close to Poe, body to body, and it’s all very intimate. Finn feels like he needs to kiss him again so he does, struggles a bit with one hand on his length while the other is working into Poe, but manages. Manages his thumb into Poe very, very slowly, edging past his ring. Poe’s jaw goes slack when he fits his whole thumb inside him.

“Would you look at that,” Finn says, in awe. He wants so, so much more – but understands he needs to do this very slowly, Poe tight and resisting against him enough for it to burn. He slips his thumb out, works his first finger in. It enters easier, with Poe loosened up. Then another finger. In no time, he has two fingers inside Poe, exploring, but not quite. Not quite brushing up against the bundle of nerves that could easily send him spilling over the edge into orgasmic bliss. Finn knows from first-hand experience.

Inside Poe’s soft, velvet against his fingers – five minutes in of amateurish prodding, smooth slides of his fingers and Poe’s blissful, heavy lidded and sprawled out, pushing against Finn’s fingers in slow rolls of his hips. “You’re kind of gorgeous you know,” Finn finally tells him, because he’s been thinking it for so long it can’t hurt to voice. Even in his blissful state, Poe scoffs. But his lips curl into a clashing soft smile.

Finn knows he’s hit the spot when he brushes against a ball of something, and Poe goes from blissful to slack-jawed so quickly it’s a blur. “Oh my _God_ , Finn, do that again,” he pleads, spreads out his legs more and bears down on Finn’s fingers. Finn’s shocked, for a few beats, at the transformation: sharp, snarky, strong pilot Poe Dameron reduced to begging at his touch, hot and sweating and desperate.

As he deliberately aims for the same spot and watches Poe’s mouth fall open in a silent moan, he really, really understands what Poe was describing, what he meant now, more than ever. He grows greedy with power, thrusting two fingers into the man beneath him harsher than before, rougher, but knowing Poe’s entire body is wracked with pleasure, opened up for him.

Finn undresses in a clumsy rush, unable to wait any longer. He has twice the patience Poe has, but with Poe loose and open and _more than ready_ below him, he’s lost all of his patience. He strips down to his boxers, hesitates, but Poe writhing at the loss of his fingers convinces him. That, and the image of Poe with his hands tightly bound behind his back an image Finn will _not_ forget. He tucks his thumbs behind the waistband of his boxers and pulls them down, cock springing free.

Poe lifts his head, takes one look at Finn naked, croaks, “Oh, kriff,” and drops his head back onto the mattress. Finn doesn’t ponder long about what he could have meant – he wraps himself in a condom, part of a pack Poe stashes in his drawer and thinks Finn knows nothing about (Finn begs to differ). He slaps the head of his cock against Poe’s bare thigh, closest to his pink, puckered hole, and relishes in the wet sound it makes.

(He really hopes the walls of the bunks aren’t as thing as Jessika Pava claims them to be. Otherwise he’s in for a whole lot of awkward explaining.)

His cock is a lot thicker than his fingers, Finn is aware (and a little proud). He breaches Poe slower than he has before, watching the head of his cock slip inside, loses himself in the sensation of Poe enveloping him, tighter than he’d imagined. Finn’s eyes catch onto Poe’s arms tucked behind his back, hands not visible, and remembers. And almost loses it there and then, struggles not to fuck into Poe hard and fast, like he’d like to.

Poe stops him when he’s halfway in and absorbed in watching Poe’s reaction, betrayed by his facial expression. He’s very vocal throughout. “ _Kriff_ , wait, Finn, just – give me a second.” Finn stills inside him, in the warm heat of Poe’s body. He’s finding it very difficult not to be rough with Poe, to scratch angry red lines down his back as he fucks him. “Okay,” Poe breathes, seeming to relax again, nods shakily. “Go ahead.”

Finn resumes, one hand wrapped around the base of his cock as he pushes in, ‘til he’s fully sheathed. He wants to cry. Poe feels better than he could have ever imagined. It’s a hot, tight vice around his whole cock, and it feels incredible. He waits for Poe’s pain to die down, for it to dissolve into pleasure (like he remembers), and draws out, pushes back in when he’s given the signal to.

“You feel really good,” he chokes out, unable to hold in, and Poe – Poe, who’s wrapping his legs around Finn’s waist, heels knocking against back who somehow seems to look sexy even during this, in his own way – grins.

“I do, huh?” He asks, grin widening, and pulls the back of Finn’s neck down into a kiss. It’s nothing more than their messy tongues and teeth clashing together, but it’s good. Good enough for Finn. He focuses down below, soon enough, focuses on thrusting into Poe in fluid motions that knock his body, makes him seem more fragile than the strong man Finn knows him to be.

Finn tilts his head back, allows his eyes to flutter shut for a short amount of time, and just. Revels. Revels in how Poe feels, warm and tight around his cock; revels in Poe’s small, short gasps; revels in Poe’s heels bumping against his back randomly; just revels in this moment and all in it. He varies how he goes, wanting to feel all of Poe and for Poe to feel all of him: long, smooth thrusts that have him brushing against Poe’s prostate once or twice, uncoordinated, and short, jerky movements that Poe clenches around his cock at, tightens his leg’s grip.

He falls into a good rhythm – pulling himself out ‘til only the head of his cock remains inside, and thrusting forcefully in. He’s awarded with Poe’s loud, shameless moans now; which only spurs him on, has him thrusting harder and faster ‘til he’s properly fucking his boyfriend, fucking him like he’d thought about, ruthless in his thrust, Poe’s body being shook in his efforts.

Finn shifts, just so he’s aimed at his target – and thrusts. Poe stutters, chokes, and clenches around him as reward. Vocally, he is very appreciative. The bunk’s creaking, knocking against the wall and Finn knows there will be questions later about the noises, but in the moment, he could only care about the unbelievable warmth of Poe, and his body feverishly hot with pleasure.

He leans down to kiss Poe, not having forgotten his mouth – and Poe breathes out, “I’m really close,” and tightens around Finn’s cock, just to show. Finn feels faint. But continues his onslaught, opting to fuck fast and deep into Poe. When he grips a hand around Poe’s cock, Poe loses it. He pulsates around Finn’s hand almost erratically, and releases over him, dribbling over his hand. Finn is soon to follow, bracing his hands over Poe’s frame, hard and fast and sloppy, finishing inside.

Finn’s whole vision whites at the edge while he comes, vignette and fuzzy. He feels heavenly afterwards, floating and free. Poe squirms underneath him: a reminder of what he has to attend to. He eases himself out slowly, wincing as his soft, sensitive cock leaves Poe. He disposes of the condom quickly, and grapples behind Poe’s back to release him of his bonds.

“Thank kriff for that.” Poe rubs over the harsh red marks the bonds have left behind. Finn kisses him in apology, and Poe laughs into his mouth. “I still love you, idiot. Just a bit sore. It’ll fade in a few days.” Finn accepts that, and flops on top of Poe. “ _Ow_. You’re heavy!” Poe cries out, tries to push him off.

Finn rolls off, but curls into Poe’s side, like he’s accustomed to. “Jessika will be asking questions, though. Maybe the General too, if we’re especially unlucky.”

Poe’s answer is proud, has Finn’s heart swelling. “Let them talk,” he says, as he did on the first day he grabbed Finn’s hand tightly, and didn’t let go, much to the surprise of gawping onlookers. “It’s never stopped us before.”

**Author's Note:**

> sequel? lemme know what u think in the comments below, feedback is welcomed!


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